


Jersey Devil

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Series: Hunter Husbands [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Creature Fic, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Dean, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: Dean groaned remembering that sweltering summer trip four years ago. “It’s so damn humid though. My shirt is soaked – its gross.” Cas turned an appraising eye on him. “Take it off then.”Dean shook his head. “No. I’m not fighting some horse-bat-deer hybrid shirtless – no matter how sexy you think it is.” The penetrating blue gaze was still on him and Dean had to hold himself back from squirming. With one last glance up and down his body, Cas sighed and turned away. The reports had started with missing pets; dogs mostly. Then a woman said she saw the creature on top of her shed watching her cat through the back window. She tried to take a picture with her phone but it flew off. The image was a blurry mess. Sam sent Dean the articles with a note attached;  what do you think?





	

Dean cursed as he slipped on pine needles again, his hand shooting out to catch himself on a tree. He was hot, tired, and out of sorts. He wanted to be at home and not in the middle of a creepy forest. 

“It should be just a little farther.” Cas said. He looked back at Dean over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. Even just that look and that smile were enough to curb Dean’s bad mood. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded, wiping a dirty hand down his face. “Yeah, just slippin on the damn needles. Who thought pine trees and sand would mix?” 

“God apparently.” Cas said. His smile this time was teasing and Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Jackass.” 

Castiel took two steps towards him, still smirking, and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “You love it. Now drink some water and stop bitching.” 

Dean laughed, he couldn’t help it. He took a few swigs of water from the bottle Cas passed him before shoving it back into Cas’ pack. 

The trail they were on was old and worn; the sandy soil shifted in places and obscured the path entirely. Dean looked over Cas’ shoulder when he pulled up his map. The hikers they had interviewed said the sound was coming from this direction and Dean hoped they would find it sooner rather than later; the sky was just beginning to turn pink above them. 

The pine trees were tall and imposing all around them; trunk after trunk as far as the eye could see with little in between them. The Pine Barrens the place was called and Dean thought the name was fitting. 

“At least it’s not as hot as Texas.” 

Dean groaned remembering that sweltering summer trip four years ago. “It’s so damn humid though. My shirt is soaked – its gross.” 

Cas turned an appraising eye on him. “Take it off then.”

Dean shook his head. “No. I’m not fighting some horse-bat-deer hybrid shirtless – no matter how sexy you think it is.” 

The penetrating blue gaze was still on him and Dean had to hold himself back from squirming. With one last glance up and down his body, Cas sighed and turned away. 

The reports had started with missing pets; dogs mostly. Then a woman said she saw the creature on top of her shed watching her cat through the back window. She tried to take a picture with her phone but it flew off. The image was a blurry mess. 

Sam sent Dean the articles with a note attached; _what do you think?_

As soon as he showed Cas there was no question they’d be heading to New Jersey. Cas’ eyes had lit up, the gears in his head turning rapidly as he began spouting facts at Dean. 

“The Jersey Devil, Dean! It’s back! This is the first sighting in at least ten years. We have to go – we have to find it!” 

Dean grumbled at the idea of going all the way to New Jersey for what might end up being some asshole stealing people’s pets. The evidence that it was a creature or anything supernatural was pretty thin. He said as much. Cas leveled him with a hard stare before grabbing the laptop and hastily hitting keys. Five minutes later, Dean had a browser full of Jersey Devil related articles and Cas was pulling out their duffle bags. 

By the time they arrived, two more people had seen the thing. One said she was walking on one of the trails and it hissed at her as it scooped her dog up, leash and all, and flew away on bat wings. The other said it carried her cat off in it’s mouth. Her house was just on the outskirts of the forest. 

When Dean called him, Sam seemed disappointed he wasn’t going with. Dean promised to send him pictures and that seemed to perk him up. In the background he heard Gabe saying something about New Jersey and a boardwalk and funnel cake. 

The local rangers were no help. They had heard all the stories but none of them believed the legend. The witnesses could only describe the same things witnesses had been describing for two hundred and fifty years; the creature had a horse’s head, clawed hands, bat wings, deer legs, and a snake’s tail. Some said it hissed, others said it screamed. 

Even with all of the things Dean had seen in his lifetime, he still had a hard time believing this thing was real. 

They crested a small hill and found a clearing on the other side. The tall thin pine trees and medium sized oaks surrounded it in an almost perfect circle. 

“That’s not eerie.” Dean said. 

Cas didn’t respond. He stepped gingerly into the clearing, spinning in a slow circle and looking up at the color streaked sky. 

“If we weren’t hunting a monster, I’d say it was almost romantic.” Cas said softly.

A breeze kicked up, rustling the tree boughs overhead. Pine needles fluttered down around Dean, adding to the floor covering. Dean stepped up beside Cas, twining their fingers together and squeezing his hand. 

“Come on, babe. The sooner we find this thing, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“And Ashley.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, feigning more enthusiasm than he actually felt, “Ashley too.”

On their second night there, the creature stole a child. The toddler was camping with her parents at one of the parks when the creature swooped down and picked her up. The father said he shot at it but must have missed because the thing didn’t even slow down. 

Hoof prints circled the area where the child was grabbed. Castiel took pictures of them, noting the obvious two-legged stance of the creature and the fact that they appeared and disappeared without a trail in either direction. 

While looking at the camp site they had run into two hikers who, wide eyed and terrified, said they heard screaming further along the trail. They couldn’t say if it was from a child or not. 

For once, Dean hoped it was the monster screaming. 

They crossed the clearing, skirting along the edge instead of going straight through. The precaution probably wasn’t necessary but when hunting a monster with wings, it was always better to stay out of open areas. 

The other side of the clearing was more of the same.

They walked and Cas checked his map. 

“They said it was near these coordinates,” he said, pointing at the screen. The evening was creeping up on them and the screen cast a strange green glow onto Cas’ face. “Should be right around here.” 

As if on cue, that’s when they heard it – a scream. It was small, more of a wail, and Dean felt his heart jerk – it sounded like a child. 

“We have to find her!” Cas said, his voice a hurried whisper. 

They heard the noise again; definitely a child. It wasn’t a sound of pain though and that fact filled Dean with urgency. The sound echoed in the trees, bouncing off trunk and branches. 

“Where would it hide her?” Dean said. He looked around the area in the fading light. There wasn’t much underbrush – the sandy, acidic soil was too harsh for most plants to grow in. He didn’t see any apparent rocks or structures around. 

“The map doesn’t show any caves. I don’t know, Dean –“ Cas stopped. He drew in a shaky breath and Dean turned to him. His face was lit up green again, the angle from below making his eyes look dark and empty. The sight alone sent a chill down Dean’s spine even before Cas spoke. “The trees, Dean. It’s in the trees.” 

They moved quickly, scrambling to pull flashlights and weapons out of Cas’ bag. There was no lore about how to kill this thing; as far as the stories went the closest anyone had come to hurting it was running it into a power line. Dean shoved a modified taser into his back pocket and clicked on his flashlight. Cas held a machete in one hand - Bobby had suggested that most creatures would die if you cut their heads off; or at the very least, be slowed down – and a flashlight in the other. 

The yellow beams illuminated portions of the canopy above them. In several place the oaks and the pines came together to create dense, leaf and needle heavy areas. Dean listened intently, trying to keep his own harsh breathing to a minimum, so as to better hear the little girl or the creature if it approached. 

Another sound – this time a hiccupping cry – cut through the still air. Castiel darted forward, his flashlight beam trained upwards. 

“Dean!” he said, his shout no more than a loud whisper. Dean jogged over to him. 

The beam was pointing to a small scrap of something blue caught in one of the branches. Dean swept the area with his light but saw no other signs. The sound was closer now. If it wasn’t coming from this tree, it had to be nearby. 

Cas pushed the machete into Deans hands, tucked the flashlight into his back pocket, and began climbing. The pine branches were small and a few snapped off as soon as he touched them but eventually he made his way up. Dean’s heart was hammering in his chest. He didn’t like this, not one bit, but he knew he couldn’t stop Cas either. 

In the years since they had first met, Cas had become a skilled and seasoned hunter. His knowledge of lore and the occult was unparalleled – he even surpassed Sammy at this point. He’d begun training almost immediately, becoming even more fit than he had been, his body still lean but covered in muscle now. He was a natural with a firearm and had grown proficient with bladed weapons too. On more than one occasion he had saved Dean’s life. 

Dean had to trust Cas – trust his skills and trust his mind. 

A rustle overhead made Dean’s head snap up. Through the canopy about ten yards down the trail he could see a pair of burning red eyes. 

“Shit.” He said without meaning to. “Babe, you better hurry up!” He called out, as loud as he dared, and clicked off his flashlight. 

The whimpers had stopped and now he could hear Cas cooing to the child. The snap of a branch made him hope that Cas was headed down. 

The red eyes blinked and narrowed slightly. A blood-curdling scream rang out from their direction and Dean tightened his grip on the machete handle. A shower of pine needles signaled Cas’ descent. 

He heard the flap of wings, the soft beating against the air, and absently he wondered how a creature could fly in this environment. Through the twilight darkness a shape appeared, blocking out the view of the rest of the trail. 

Cas dropped down next to him, stumbling with the weight of the child, and went to his knees. Dean glanced over, only pulling his eyes from the creature for a second. Cas was alright – now he could focus. 

He dropped his flashlight. “Babe. I need you to man the light. Stay down low, stay behind me, and whatever you do – don’t let that little girl go. Capishe?”

“Yeah Dean, I capishe.” Cas said. The flashlight clicked on and the beam illuminated the trail. It was empty. 

“Shit.” 

“You think it’s above us?” 

“I don’t know, Cas. Shit. It was right there!” 

They both held their breath, listening intently and scanning the trees. Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. 

“Let’s just go. Maybe we can make it out, get her somewhere safe and come back for it.” Cas whispered. 

Dean turned then. Castiel had the child cradled against his chest. Her body was wrapped in a makeshift sling made out of two flannel shirts tied together. Her eyes were open, big and bright even in the darkness, and she was staring at him. She had smudges of dirt on her cheeks and a small cut above her eyebrow. Her thumb was in her mouth. Dean reached out and ran a hand through her hair. 

“Is she ok?” Dean said. 

Cas nodded. “Scared, tired, and probably starving but she’s ok. I don’t know why it kept her alive but I’m not going to worry about it right now.”

“Yeah. Ok.” Dean sighed and stepped back, looking down the trail again. “Let’s go. Keep the lights off unless we really need them, stay quiet. Maybe we can make it back to the ranger station at least.” 

The walk was a lot harder in the dark. The trees cast strange shadows across the sandy trail and made Dean jump on more than one occasion. He kept his eyes peeled for the glowing red orbs he’d seen earlier.

They were halfway back when he heard it, that same soft air movement, the whump of wings beating. He put a hand out but Cas was already stopped. Cas crouched low to the ground and Dean gripped the machete with both hands. Above them, red eyes glowed. 

The creature screamed as it lept down and landed just out of range of Dean’s blade. Dean growled, slashing the air. The creature reared up, stretching its wings until they bumped the trees. It was about five feet high and looked just as everyone had described it. The head was vaguely horse-like with a long snout and swiveling ears. Its eyes burned like embers inside its skull. The wings were large and webbed, darkly colored enough to blot out the little light the moon provided. Its arms ended in small clawed paws that compared to nothing Dean had even seen before and its legs were thin and agile looking with hooved feet. The tail was the worst part; long, whip-like, and covered in flashing scales it swished back and forth behind the creature. Dean imagined it would do some serious damage if it caught you. 

The little girl cried and Cas hushed her but the creature turned its head at the sound. It stepped closer, its hooves softly pressing into the sand. 

Just a few more steps and it would be in range. 

“Cas. Do it again, make her cry.”

“What?” Cas said, the alarm in his voice evident. 

“Just bounce her or something. I need it closer.” He hoped his whispers weren’t loud enough to discern because he wasn’t sure how much the thing could understand. 

There was a pause and then the little girl let out another little hiccupping sob. The creature’s mouth lolled open and it appeared to be scenting the air. It’s teeth were an odd mixture of flat and sharp looking and its tongue had dark spots on it. 

It took another step. The wings behind it fluttered, kicking up sand and leaves around Dean’s ankles. He grimaced. The little girls sobs gained momentum and Dean felt his heart ache for her. The creature took another step. Its paws reached out, groping in the air, reaching for him or maybe for the little girl. One more step and Dean swung. The blade hit the creature in the neck with a loud _thwack_. It was still coming. The gash in its neck oozed viscous liquid that had an oily sheen to it. 

The things tail whipped forward, lashing out towards him, and catching his calf. He winced at the blow, which would definitely leave a bruise, and the burning sensation that followed it. It must have cut all the way through his jeans. 

Dean felt bile rise in the back of his throat but he pulled the machete back and swung again. The creature dodged and the blade hit it’s shoulder. It cried out this time, its mouth opening wide as another scream came forth. Dean’s ears hurt from the noise and the child’s cries became even louder. 

Another step forward. Dean took up a firm stance, angled his body, and swung with all of his weight behind the blow. The blade went into the creature’s neck again, this time finishing the job. As the blade came out the other side the momentum of the swing caused him to stumble. 

“Dean!” Cas called. Dean waved a hand at him, not moving his eyes from the creature. The body was still upright, the tail lashing behind it, wings shifting. Just as Dean was contemplating another swing, it fell, crumpled into a heap. A cloud of grit and dust came up when it hit the ground. 

Cas rushed towards him. “Are you alright?” 

“Damn tail got my leg but it’’ll be ok. Jeans took most of I think.”

Cas rubbed the wailing child’s back even as he eyed Dean up and down, his flashlight leaving a bright spot on each area of Dean’s body as he inspected it. Dean glanced down and saw his torn pant leg, now soaked with blood, and groaned. 

Cas ran a hand through his hair, stepping up to him and getting as close as he could with the small body between them. 

“Thank you for protecting us.” 

Dean felt his face heat up and he ducked his head. “Yeah, Cas. Of course.” He said. He pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead. After a few moments of silence, Dean spoke, “You think we should burn it?” 

_________________

Dean winced as he shifted his legs. The cut on his calf was worse than he’d thought and he’d needed three stitches to close it. 

His whole body felt tired but at least he was clean and cool now. The sheets under him were familiarly scratchy, the standard motel sheets he’d grown up on. Cas was in the shower and the sound of the water made for pleasant white noise in the room. He didn’t even have the TV on. 

He zoned out for a while until the sound of the shower cut off and the bathroom door opened, letting out a puff of steam. A few minutes later Cas stepped out, a towel slung low around his waist. His hair was damp and messy and the sight of it brought a smile to Dean’s lips. 

Cas quirked an eyebrow at him. “You ok? You look a little out of it.” 

Dean thought about the question for a moment. His muscles were sore, the stitches in his calf burned a little, but overall, he was pretty good. They had returned the little girl to the rangers, to her parents, and stopped the creature before it hurt anyone else. He felt a swell of pride at how well he and Cas always worked together. 

“Wow. It wasn’t a philosophical question, Dean.” Cas said but the smile on his face was fond. He dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of boxers before climbing into the bed. 

“Was thinking about today. You and I make a good team and I’m just happy that little girl got to go home, you know?”

Cas leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Yes, I know. I was very happy with how it all turned out.” 

Cas turned his body and tucked himself in against Dean’s side, one hand splayed across his chest, their legs intertwined. His fingers traced Dean’s tattoo idly. 

“Do you ever think about kids?”

The question caught Dean off guard and he tilted his head to look at Cas. “What?”

“Do you, Dean Winchester, ever think about having children?” Cas said. His face was without expression, simply open and curious. 

Dean’s heart thumped a little harder in his chest. “Not sure. I mean, yeah, kids are great and all but with what I do – what we do, it just never seemed like a possibility.”

Castiel nodded beside him. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. “I agree. It would be hard to leave a child whenever there was a case and no offense to your dad,” Dean let out a dry chuckle. “I would never want to bring a child along.” 

Silence settled over them for a moment. Cas’ palm was warm against his skin and Dean covered it with his own.  
“There’s always Sam and Gabe. I think being an uncle would be cool.”

Dean smiled at the thought of his little brother with a kid. He hoped the kid looked just like him; same big puppy dog eyes whenever they wanted something. It would serve Sam right.

Castiel was looking at him again. The lamplight fell softly across his face, the shadow of his eyelashes across his cheekbones drew Dean’s eye. He caressed one with his thumb. 

“Gabriel would make a great father, as would Sam. I think they complement each other well.” Cas said, looking thoughtful, “and as uncles we could spoil the children and then hand them right back. I kind of like that idea.”

“Exactly. No diapers, no midnight feedings, no paying for college. Just birthday parties, Christmas presents, helping them sneak out to go on dates.” 

Cas gave him a hard look. 

“Ok, no sneaking out, got it.” Dean said in mock acquiescence. He was absolutely going to be his niece or nephews alibi if they needed it. 

He squeezed the arm around Cas’ waist, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer. He felt good; His skin was warm and soft, his body relaxed. He let his hand drift down and cup Cas’ ass on one side, squeezing the muscle. 

“I thought you were tired.” Cas mumbled against his neck, he didn’t pull away though. 

Dean shrugged; a half-hearted thing. He was tired but that didn’t deter his libido any. Cas was his weakness in more ways than one. 

He squeezed again, pulling Cas’ hips forward. He could feel Cas’ cock against his hip, half hard and warmer than the rest of him, only the thin layer of his boxers between them (Dean had never redressed after his own shower). 

“Dean.” Cas said but his voice was low, husky with want.

“Come ‘ere” Dean said as he tugged at Cas’ hips again. 

Cas rolled gracefully over, bracketing Dean’s hips with his knees. Dean smiled up at him as the warm buzz of arousal floated through his veins. He reached up, cupping the back of Cas’ neck and drawing him down. Their mouths met again and this time Dean could taste a hint of mint on Cas’ tongue. He groaned into the kiss when Cas nipped his bottom lip, sucking the sore spot afterward. 

Cas rolled his hips and their cocks brushed. Dean gasped into his mouth and Cas chuckled. 

“I take it I’m going to have to do all the work.” He said. Dean smirked and tightened his grip on Cas’ neck, kissing him harder, deeper. 

Cas’ hips rolled down again, their dicks slotting together side by side. The thin cotton of his boxers was soft but still made too much friction for Dean’s liking. He released Cas’ neck and used his hands to shove at the waistband. 

“Naked, Cas. Come on.” He grumbled. Cas chuckled at him again. 

He was beautiful, there really was no other word for it. Dean admired the way his muscles flexed as he twisted to remove his boxers and toss them to the edge of the bed. Dean grabbed at his sides, fingers tracing down rib bones and across his tattoos. He’d gotten the anti-possession tattoo on his hip almost as soon as they returned from Texas all those years ago. He scratched his fingertips through the dark trail of hair leading down from Cas’ navel, grinning at the small moan it pulled from Cas’ lips, before wrapping his hand around him. His cock was hard and heavy in Dean’s hand. The angle was awkward but Dean made do with short strokes and swipes of his thumb across the head. 

Cas groaned before swatting his hand away. Dean dutifully moved it, bringing his thumb to his lips and sucking the taste of Cas off of it; salty and bitter bursting across his tongue. Cas groaned again, a low sound in his throat. He leaned down once more lining up their hips and crushing their mouths together. He chased his own taste on Dean’s tongue and Dean let him, let himself be devoured. Cas’ hips rocked against his, the hot slick slide of them made Dean’s head spin. He tangled one hand in Cas’ hair, wrapping the other arm around his back and pulling him close. 

The tight press of their bodies trapped their cocks and allowed just enough movement. Dean could feel Cas’ heart beating against his ribcage. The steady thump of it, building in rhythm, spurred him on. He kissed and sucked across Cas’ jaw, down the column of his throat. 

Cas groaned into his ear, “God, Dean.” 

“Feel so good, Cas.” 

He was burning up; warmth pooling low in his belly and coiling up his spine. After a few moments, Cas pulled out of his arms, his blue eyes dark and heavy lidded. He licked his palm before snaking his hand down between their bodies and wrapping it around both of them. The increase in pressure made Dean’s hips stutter. As Cas made a tight fist around their cocks, the bump, slide, catch of them was almost too much. 

“Fuck, Cas. Just like that baby.” Dean growled out. 

Cas’ bottom lip was between his teeth now – a small gesture that let Dean know he was reaching the edge too. His hand sped up between them, stroking quickly, twisting at the top. Dean tried to lift his hips, to fuck into the ring of Cas’ fist but his calf burned with the effort. He groaned in frustration and Cas let out a small growl. 

“I’ve got you.” 

He leaned down again, connecting their mouths. Dean felt tension in his spine, the desire in him reaching its peak. He moaned into Cas’ mouth as the warmth in his belly overflowed, the tension snapping, and he came between Cas’ fingers. Cas grunted and sped up the movement of his fist. The sound of it was obscene now, slick and wet, and it only took a moment for Cas to follow Dean over the edge. He cried out Dean’s name, panting hotly against his neck as he came. 

He collapsed on top of Dean. His weight was pleasant, even if they were both hot and sticky, and Dean held him close while they each caught their breath. 

When Cas rolled off of him, Dean shivered at the loss. 

“Does this mean I have to clean us up too?” Cas said. His voice had a tired edge to it. 

Dean pushed off the mattress, stumbling a step when he put his weight on his injured leg. 

“Dean, wait.” Cas said, reaching for him but Dean waved him off. 

“It’s a couple of stitches, babe. Not the end of the world.”

He trudged into the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. He wiped down Cas’ stomach and hands before doing the same for himself. He crawled back onto the bed and curled up against Cas’ side.  
“Thanks Cas.”

“For what?”

“For everything. Having my back, taking care of me, fucking my brains out.” Dean grinned as the words left his mouth. 

Cas huffed a small laugh and kissed his forehead. 

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“’Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> on Tumblr at [DestielTrashland](http://destieltrashland.tumblr.com)


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